


Master

by ZeroGravityInq



Series: Master Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Body Horror, Harry is an odd child but his parents love him anyway, Master of Death Harry Potter, Other, Slight horror, massively overpowered harry potter, may have a sequel eventually, occasional gore, shorter than plan but again in a fuck it kind of mood, we love our dark strange son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-03-20 18:05:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18997762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroGravityInq/pseuds/ZeroGravityInq
Summary: There is an adage that some are gifted with power. Some has power thrust upon them and others….Others are just born with it.In which Harry Potter does not become the Master of Death. He is born one.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes yes I am trash who can't finish her ficts but here i am on memorial day at work the week before i move, bored out of my skull with an idea rattling around. Not beta'd, barely proofread and i have no fucking idea where this is going. Enjoy.

James Potter was panicking. 

 

This seemed to be the norm for his life. And him panicking never results in anything good. 

 

Well not good immediately. 

 

Him panicking about the pretty red head on the train talking to that greasy poor child on the Hogwarts Express may have initially set him back but he did eventually marry Lily. 

 

Him panicking in his first week as an Auror nearly got him and his first squad killed but here he was Head Auror. 

 

Now here he was panicking on the eve of the birth of his firstborn. 

 

And he was completely justified in his panic. 

 

He may have, just ever so slightly, forgot to tell Lily of a minor often overlooked teeny tiny detail about his bloodline. 

 

Yes, she knew he was a rich pureblood and his parents did so love lily. His family’s fortune was built on potions and produced powerful masters of transfiguration. 

 

This itty bitty detail?

 

Their firstborn son may turn out to be the Master of Death, the holder of the leash of the eldritch abomination know as death and all of its compatriots. 

 

There was a chance that their son, already named Harry, would not be the Master. After all James nor his father was the master, that honor went to Charlus. 

 

But Charlus never had children and James had always been wary of his uncle with glowing eyes and air about him that was both and at once blinding and seeped in the darkest of magics. 

 

Privately James hoped that with Lily being a muggleborn, the bloodline was diluted just enough that it will brush past Harry. 

 

Even more privately he thought it would have been better to go after a squib or a muggle even if his parents wouldn’t approve. 

 

But fuck it. Here he was sunk into his choices. 

 

“Lord Potter?”

 

He looked up and his heart sank to his toes at the frightened look on the nurse’s face. 

 

“Is something wrong?” he asked carefully, standing to his feet despite how much his knees wanted to give out. 

 

“Lady Potter is asking for you sir and...well you must come and see this.” She urged him on and with heavy steps, he followed. 

 

In the birthing room, it looked normal from the inset: Lily on the bed, legs propped up and open, still beautiful despite the pain. The midwife they picked out was there and so was a healer just in case. 

 

But then he noticed the odd things. 

 

The shadows along the wall like tendrils of seaweed underwater wiggling in corners and on the wall and unnaturally gathering near to lily, just under her spread legs. The medical team was on the other side of the room exchanging horrified glances. There was a odd chorus of voices talking softly to each other but not loudly enough to discern what they were saying. There was only Lily, James, the 3 person medical team in the room and all of them were silent. 

 

And then there was the cold.

 

James let out a breath and he could see it. 

 

It is July. 

 

Lily wasn’t sweating. 

 

“James...James I don’t know what is happening. Is...is the baby okay?” Lily painted, her green eyes large and afraid as he approached. He stopped next to her and ran his fingers through her hair. 

 

“Everything is fine.” He soothed, subtly shooting a spell at the medical staff to make them leave and forgot what they saw. 

 

Probably not the best things to imperius the medical staff but desperate times calls for desperate measures.

 

“Why are they leaving-what about the baby?” Despite his attempts at calming her Lily was getting worked up again. 

 

“Shh no it’s alright. I should have pushed for a home birth but needs must.” He sighed and walked around to stand between her thighs. Sitting down on a stool he summoned, he ran an eye over a place he had been privy to for a time now. 

 

He reached out a hand closer and it was grabbed by a tiny hand. 

 

Ah….so his guess was right. Fuck.

 

“Come out Harry. Stop scaring your mother and come out," he cooed to his newborn son and the child, with no help from his mother, proceeded to push himself out of the home he was in for the past 8-ish months. James watch calmly, holding out a hand then lifting out the little body once mostly free. 

 

He glanced up at his wife when Harry was out and she stared at him as if she had never seen him before. 

 

“J-james...what is that?”

 

James Potter looked down just as the newest addition to his line opened his far too bright and intelligent eyes and looked him in the eyes. Luminescent green locked with brown. 

 

“Why it’s our son, love. Harry James Potter.”


	2. Chapter 2

Lily Potter previously Evans, was no stranger to Strange Things. 

 

After all, she was a witch. For as long as she could remember she either caused or within the center of Strange Things. 

 

She marveled a bit that her parents never disowned her for being a witch or a devil child but then again they weren’t particularly devout Christians. Petunia did, disown her as a sister that is, but Petunia didn’t act out of piety but out of jealousy and pure unbridled spite. 

 

She had flown and made things fly. She made strange concoctions and drunk them. She healed wounds in seconds and, as an upcoming unspeakable, she had breached the very edges of magic itself. 

 

But her son was different. 

 

After having a loud and proper shout at James for concealing his heritage from her and scaring the bejezuus out of her when Harry was born, she had a few things to admit to herself. 

 

Harry was quite a beautiful child for one - pale skin, black hair and stunning green eyes. Small but in a compact way, like he was supposed to be sturdy when he got older.

 

Another is that he was a Strange Thing. 

 

She felt quite bad to think that but her only other choice was to think he was a Scary Thing. That was also true but she loved her baby quite too much to ever consider Harry a Scary Thing. 

 

But he was not like any baby she knew of. 

 

Harry’s eyes were too bright for one. Not in the glassy fever bright way like a sick person was - his eyes seemed to glow, the iris having some sort of backlight that made it easy to glow in the dark. And they did. 

 

He was also too knowing for a child. His eyes focused on her and James within hours of being born. He still babbled and wiggled much like any other newborn turning into a toddler but she felt that it was that he was stuck with the physical limitations of a baby not so much that he didn’t  _ know _ how to walk and talk. 

 

Then there were the Shadows. 

 

Sometimes she would set Harry down to do something or the other and comeback and there would be this inky blackness...purring as if it was a cat. Their actual cat was nowhere to be found.

 

The first time it terrified her and she moved to move her baby to safety and the blackness blocked her, opening a dripping maw to roar at her, showing a mouth with more teeth than she can count. 

 

James found her on the floor, passed out and a streak of white in her hair that since she was not able to glamour nor dye the muggle way. 

 

He advised her to leave the creatures be as they were not there to harm Harry. Some pestering and some threats of James being permanently being moved to the couch later, he finally started to explain. 

 

* * *

 

_ “He is the Master of Death.” James ran a finger over Harry’s chubby cheeks, Harry following the motion unerring precision for a 2 week old baby. _

 

_ “What does that even mean James?” Lily sighed as she held Harry close, gently rocking the little boy.  _

 

_ “It means he has dominion of Death. It’s not that he will never die, he just has powers that normal mortals, even magical people can comprehend. His magic is both extremely dark and extremely light since Death has no alignment.” James eyes seem to go far away as he spoke. This scared Lily but she was starting to figure she should get used to being afraid or confused.  _

 

_ “And what about those...shadow things?” she asked quietly, her voice an almost whisper as Harry drifted off to sleep.  _

 

_ “Probably aspects of death or familiars. They are protective of Harry so I wouldn’t worry to much about them. My uncle Charlus had similar ones but they were far bigger and more subtle.” _

 

_ “That’s not reassuring at all James. How are we to parent our son if he can send those...shadows after us when we displease him?” Lily doubted her son would do it, parental love blinded as she was, but it was a solid and hefty worry.  _

 

_ “He won’t. I know you noticed that he acts more mature than most children. He is a very calm baby, Lils. We shouldn’t fear our son,” he softly reassured running a hand up and down her arm.  _

 

_ There was a silence between the young couple then Lily sidled over to nestle into her husband’s arms. The small family were at peace and despite the tension over their sons abilities, Lily couldn’t help but make a joke.  _

 

_ “Well...at least we don’t have to worry about Voldemort coming after us. Between the wards and Harry’s shadows, he will be well enough away.” _

 

_ The rumbling of James chest as he laughed made her smile _

 

* * *

 

After that she let the Shadows have time with her son and in response they became quite affectionate with her as well. Rubbing against her legs when she was in the kitchen and handing her things when she was tending to Harry. 

 

She managed to coax the cat back but for the sake of the poor thing’s sanity she gave it to other friend that was a cat lover. It wouldn’t be right to traumatize it further. 

 

And then James’ friends came over to see the baby. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya know i really like lily. she's cool beans. yeah.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter Pettigrew knew dark. 

 

He knew scurrying in the Forbidden Forest at nearly 2 am. Of curling tight into a ball when his mother would drink and drink and drink. He knew the magic that soaked into his skin when he took the dark mark. 

 

Peter knew dark. 

 

But he didn’t know black until he met Harry. 

 

Seemingly dragged along when Sirius wanted to see his godson but all according to plan thought up by his master, Peter met Harry James Potter. 

 

He met the edge of the abyss and the abyss met the edges of him. 

 

The child was at once both horrible and beautiful. An attraction that repulsed him. 

 

He knew he will warn his master away if he can. 

 

* * *

 

Remus Lupin knew dark.

 

He knew waking up in parts unknown after the full moon body aching blood down his front and being unsure if the gristle caught in his teeth was human or animal. He knew becoming more and more distant with his parents as he became what they feared even when he made sure to speak quietly and stay out of sight. He knew being rejected time and time again and thinking that he wouldn’t be rejected if they were dead by his hand. Not wand,  _ hand _ . 

 

Remus knew dark. 

 

And then Harry taught him black. 

 

Harry was a good child. Quiet but willing to laugh and play. 

 

But those monsters that surrounded him. Dripping shadows that prowled about like sentries only to occasionally nudge against Harry or accept pets from Lily and James. 

 

* * *

 

Sirius Black, ironically, didn’t know black. 

 

He did know dark. He knew breathing through cracked ribs and shaking off crucios his mother tossed at him for stepping out the thin line of acceptable pureblood behavior. He knew stares, suspicious and laden with accusations of guilt that made him rifle through his mental library of curses and wonder how much he can get away with before the headmaster threw him out. He knew euphoria racing under his skin and through his blood when he took down a Death Eater with a curse that toed the line of acceptable for Aurors and didn’t get a single reprimand from his superiors. 

 

Sirius knew dark. 

 

And he knew Harry was black. 

 

All the more amusing that he was Harry’s godfather. 

 

It was amazing that a baby could be so steeped in darkness but also be an effervescent beacon for light and all that was right in the world. 

 

The marauders knew dark. And now, they knew Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My boss makes a dollar while i make a dime to write shit ficts on company time.


	4. Chapter 4

Severus Snape was a man of regrets. 

 

It was a amazing that someone so intelligent could just open his mouth and ruin everything. Friendships, budding romance and companionship. Every time he had something good going for him, he just utterly destroyed it. 

 

He was a man of many regrets living through the greatest one of all. 

 

Lurking in the Hog’s Head he witnessed a prophecy and without remorse relayed it to his lord. He never had remorse while doing only after. Not long after at that, hello regret old friend. 

 

The Dark Lord was targeting the woman he loved. 

 

The woman who married his nemesis.

 

The woman who just invited him to tea. 

 

Why in the bloody fuck did he accept?

 

Here he was in Potter Manor - surprisingly less red and gold than he thought - sitting across from Lily in a conservatory. Tea things laid out before them on a dainty bistro table. Next to Lily was a bassinet. 

 

He couldn’t bring himself to look.

 

“So how have you been doing, Severus?”

 

Her voice was soft, without censor nor warmth. If he didn’t know of her origins, he would mistake her for a pureblood with the cool way she presented herself. 

 

“Why did you call me here, Lily? You know who my master is and what cause I have aligned myself with. Why are we having tea in a sun room and you are not in hiding?” He asked urgently but softly. 

 

She smiled and he felt ill. 

 

He has been smiled at by Lily before 

 

Warm sunny smiles when he taught her something new that he basked in for weeks. Sharp quick grins when they joined up and launched a witty repartee to Potter’s ignorant gang of thugs. Quiet proud smiles when he did very well on something and was acknowledged. 

 

This was not one of those smiles. 

 

This was pity. This was the laying down of a winning hand. This was the poison in the tea, unwittingly drunk. 

 

This was the lioness just as she was taking down her prey. 

 

“Would you like to see Harry?”

 

Before he could stop her - because god fuck dammit he didn’t want to see Potter’s spawn! - she reached into the bassinet and pulled out the child. 

 

He stared into iridescent green that surveyed him quietly, judged him, and found him wanting in the span of seconds 

 

He didn’t even know the brat was awake with how quiet he was. It was physically impossible for Draco to do so, so how the hell did this child - barely a year old - manage to be so silent?

 

“This is my son, Harry.” Lily said, a proud little smile on her lips as the thus named Harry stared at him solemnly. 

 

Severus Snape was unsettled. 

 

“Is he...well?” He asked awkwardly as the child continued to stare and Lily did nothing to fill the suddenly pregnant silence between the three of them. 

 

“Very much so. He’s special, aren’t you love?” She cooed at the baby who finally, as if on cue, started to act like the infant he was, cooing back at his mother and turning away from Severus. 

 

Severus then noticed how very dark it was. It was a sunny spring day, one of those extremely rare English days without a hint of rain but yet it was significantly dark. 

 

And the child eyes glowed. 

 

“L-lily…”

 

Shadows converged on them, wrapping around Lily’s legs, nuzzling at her and the baby. She child absently patted the head of the shadows, his eyes unblinkingly locked with Severus’

 

“Do your old friend a favor, Sev,”  she stood, the shadows writhing around her as she held the child like a Madonna of the Damned. “Tell your master to try. For he will fail, fleeing from Death.”

 

The baby put his fist in his mouth. 

 

And Severus fled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who rolled a d20 to decide who will be the focus of the next couple of chapters?   
> For the record, I do like Severus. More than the marauders in fact. Don't @ me.


	5. Chapter 5

Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr, now known as Lord Voldemort, feared nothing. 

 

The darkest wizard alive is not just a moniker. He had delved deep into the Darkest Arts for his goals, done countless rituals and sacrificed much to be the most powerful and darkest wizard alive. 

 

And now the Light mounted a defense and that defense was a child. 

 

A child. A child! If he was so inclined, it would make Lord Voldemort laugh.

 

Who would think a mere babe, or if he was especially indulgent, a grown and trained warrior younger than he could ever possible defeat the greatest Dark Lord of All Time?

 

Clearly Dumbledore and his ragtag gang of buffoons did. 

 

And, oddly, some of his followers did as well. 

 

Pettigrew, he could ignore since the barely a man was afraid of everything. His opinion and existence was useless aside from some occasional spying opportunities. 

 

But Severus was different. 

 

The man was his Right Hand - shrew yet young, capable but ever so slightly flawed for his affection for the ginger mudblood that he started school with. 

 

Severus was usually the calm strategist laying out plans step by step with back up after back up for the few times things went to hell. 

 

This wasn’t what met the Dark Lord Voldemort after his spy had told him the prophecy and had a meeting with the Potter woman. 

 

First thing wrong was that Severus was trembling. Shaking as if he had been hit with a crucio. Lord Voldemort had been able to hit Severus with a crucio once and made him scream but that was entirely by surprise. Severus was a master Occlumens so to see him so...disturbed. 

 

Secondly he seemed drained of all color - which with his black hair made him look even more stark. 

 

Something had scared him greatly. 

 

“Severus, did you have fun with your mudblood?”

 

Severus laughed. 

 

The kind of laugh he expected from Bella, lost in her mind. Rosier laughed like that too when on raids. He supposed he laughed like that as well occasionally. 

 

But not Severus. 

 

Never Severus. 

 

He laughed like a man on his way to the gallows, sure in his death. He laughed like he was supposed to be snatched from the gaping maw of death but was swallowed whole anyway. He laughed like a man with nothing to lose and all the time in the world. 

 

He laughed like a man demented. 

 

He quieted and said softly. 

 

“My Lord, I advise to pursue other avenues in terms of protecting yourself. To go after that child, that monster, will only mean your end.”

 

Yet here he was before Potter Manor, on Samhain night, alone but somehow not unwelcome. 

 

The wards unfolded before him like he was an old friend without him saying a word nor flexing his magic. 

 

A silvery stag patronus cantered out to greet him. It spoke in a woman’s voice. 

 

“Hello, please come in. Follow the patronus to us.”

 

Such a warm welcome that put the Dark Lord on guard, more so than he was already with the invitation to come to Potter Manor in the first place. He honestly thought it was a trick and that the Potters would have hidden themselves away like the other potential prophecy child and his parents did but then Gryffindors were never ones to make sense. 

 

He followed the stag patronus into the opulent yet homey manor, decorated with warm dark woods and far less red than he expected. If it wasn’t so large, he would have thought that he was coming into a hunting lodge instead. 

 

Within a parlor bathed in blue, was the Potters.

 

The red headed mudblood sat on the floor with the toddler whom she was holding his little hands to help him stand. The Potter lord was across from them, hands held out to cajole the baby to walk to him. 

 

A warm and domestic scene yet Lord Voldemort felt...cold. 

 

And he didn’t know why. 

 

For all appearances, despite them welcoming in their doom, the Potters seemed like any other young couple, enamored with their baby and delighting in his growth. Neither had a wand in hand or nearby and their demeanor was relaxed. 

 

Something was wrong here. 

 

The Potter Lord looked up and smiled at him. 

 

At such a friendly gesture, Lord Voldemort recoiled as if struck. 

 

“Hello, cousin. I thought it was about time I called you to visit. Sorry for the delay.” The wizard stood and picked up his heir, the baby’s attention now on the Dark Lord and those eyes made something within him twitch and flinch in fear. 

 

Those eyes weren’t mortal. 

 

“Cousin? I have no family.” The Dark Lord replied only for Potter to smile at him, a thing of sharp teeth. 

 

“You are descendant of Cadmus Peverell, original holder of the Resurrection Stone. I am descended from Ignotis, brother of Cadmus and holder of the Invisibility Cloak. Also of my line, we hold the title of Master of Death.”

 

Those words rang through Voldemort, jarring an early memory that he had suppressed and forgotten.  

 

Although the Potters always sorted Gryffindor, they always had at least one that was different than the rest. In his generation was Charulus. 

 

Charulus who was only spoken about in whispers, was a contradictory quiet Gryffindor. Brilliant but not bragging, Tom wanted the Potter in his Knights. However he was warned away by Abraxus. 

 

“You don’t want him as a follower, Riddle. He has power you do not and will not.”

 

At the time he had been offended that Abraxas was thinking of him as weak but something about the upperclassman Gryffindor made his skin crawl like he was staring into the eye of a god. 

 

“You may have met my Uncle Charulus. He was the last one to be the Master of Death. Now it’s little Harry.” Potter said, staring at him along with the boy in his arms. The child who wasn’t a child. 

 

Suddenly, he noticed the lack of light in the room - the waving and creeping shadows that converge on the small family. Quiet threats if he dare harmed this family. 

 

“What do you choose, cousin?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My pain is your gain. I wasn't going to give Tom a choice, just have him completely destroyed but honestly, I like him too and i would love to have a fict where everyone played nice because Harry had the biggest stick.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry Potter watched. 

 

As he was a baby, he couldn’t do much of anything. His parents didn’t mind though they encouraged him to move - Mummy with her belly time and Daddy trying to sneak him off onto a broom and getting caught every time - but to Harry there was so much to watch. 

 

Not his Shadows who were fun and useful but he was used to them. 

 

Not the Marauders who 2 out of 3 watched him with wary eyes. 

 

Not Sev, Mummy’s friend who was never around when Daddy was and couldn’t seem to make up his mind on how he feels about Harry. 

 

Not Tom who was fascinating as he seemed to age backward and his eyes turning from red to a muddy blue color. 

 

Harry liked watching colors. 

 

Swirls of colors around witches and wizards like his parents and swirls of greys around muggles. Everyone had swirls and it was fascinating. 

 

At least until they die. Then the swirls are white. And turned black when the swirls came to him. 

 

He couldn’t see his swirls but the Whispers assured him that his were black. He asked the Whispers why that was and it told him that he was the Master of Death so his swirls were black. 

 

He didn’t ask anything after that, accepting it as fact. He has black swirls, end story.

 

He met a family of red heads not related to Mummy. They had gold swirls and were Very Loud. Then he met a family of blond people who had silver swirls and were Very Quiet. 

 

There seemed to be no connection between how someone acted and what color their swirls were. 

 

It was all so fascinating!

 

“What are you staring at, sweetheart?” Mummy picked him up. He babbled at her as she changed his nappy and carried him out of the nursery. The Shadows lazily swirled around her feet, occasionally accepting an absentminded pat from Lily. 

 

It was nice that Mummy spoke to him even though she never understood what he said. 

 

“We are having a guest over tonight, love. The headmaster of the school we went to, Hogwarts.” Lily adjusted him in her arms and helped him drink from his bottle before continuing. “His name is Albus Dumbledore and..”

 

As she explained their guest, Harry’s mind was filled with Words. Not the same as Whispers but more informational.

 

_ Headmaster _

_ Manipulator _

_ Seeker of Hallows _

_ Gellert’s Lover _

_ Murderer  _

_ Manipulator _

_ Judge _

_ Jury _

_ Executioner _

 

A similar litany is whispered to him by the Words whenever he met someone new but it seemed like the Words were quite angry with this Dumbledore [ _brother, son, murderer_ ] than it ever was with Tom [ _broken, dark lord, orphan_ ] which was interesting.

 

“Between you and me,” Mummy began, aside to him, “James doesn’t want Dumbledore to come over. He doesn’t like him much but I really think it’s best to clear the air. Like why Tom won’t be a problem for us.” She smiled at him sweetly and he managed to grimace back. 

 

He wondered why Tom was a problem and this Dumbledore person still thought he was. 

 

But that didn’t matter. 

 

The pretty swirls around Mummy was making him sleepy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the next to last chapter. Sorry it wasn't up yesterday. I had a very tumultuous move and i had work today and i am just kind of done. Work tonight too but it's work from home so eh.


	7. Chapter 7

Albus Dumbledore was panicking. 

 

It had been a while since he had experienced it to the extent that he would acknowledge it but he was indeed in a state of panic.

 

First was his prophecy ploy falling apart. The Potters refused to cooperate - his preferred prophecy child - and the Longbottoms, although a good substitute, did not have the kind of clout that James and Lily had nor did they have any close friends to betray them. 

 

Second, Tom seemed to have gone underground, sending his troops into retreat and largely stopping his terrorist regime. That was all well and good, but considering how many times he had to remind the Minister that Voldemort was still at large and they needed to shore up defenses, the peace they have been experiencing for most of the year was quite disarming. 

 

Finally, he still could not find the Hallows. He thought, at one point, that Gellert owned the Elder wand but it turns out that he just had a wand of elder. A powerful wand wood held by someone of great power but not undefeatable. 

 

He knew James’ family held the Cloak but the boy, no matter how much he gently guilted him for it, stood adamant that it remained with family and only family. Bloody Purebloods. 

 

Tom, he knew, had the Stone both as a descendant and he had seen it on the lad’s hand after he had acquired it before graduating from Hogwarts. He still smacked himself for not liberating it from the one person who would never use the Stone for anything worthwhile.

 

It was just as well, he had managed to secure an invite to Potter Manor via Lily and maybe he would be able to maneuver things back on track. 

 

* * *

 

Albus Dumbledore was panicking. 

 

Tom Mavolo Riddle Jr had answered the door and he looked nary a day over 40. His eyes were a muddy blue and he had the beginning of grey at his temples, crow’s feet in the corner of his eyes. 

 

No insanity, no rage at the sight of his former hated professor. 

 

“Hello, Professor, please come in.” He greeted in a neutral tone, holding the door open for Albus to come in. He wasn’t dressed as a butler and indeed once Albus had entered the manor, he walked away with a “The elves will lead you to the parlor in a bit.”

 

This was bad. 

 

Not long after, a house elf popped in and led him to the blue parlor - a stiffly formal receiving room for unwanted guests if his time around Fleamont and Euphemia Potter was anything to go by.

 

There seated, was Lily and James Potter, little Harry sitting on Lily’s lap. All three were dressed quite formally in wizarding wear in colors of deep bronze and black that managed to compliment their coloring. James had tamed his hair and slicked it back from his face which was mirrored with Harry’s hair. Lilly wore her hair up in a tight bun that wouldn’t look amiss on Minerva. Curiously, she had a streak of white near her temple that stood out even more in her deep red hair. 

 

The child was the oddest. He didn’t squirm or babble like any other child at that age. He sat still and bar the rising and falling of his little chest, Albus was wont to mistake him for a doll. The little black haired boy stared right at him with glowing unnerving green eyes. No curiosity. 

 

“Ah, Professor Dumbledore, come in and have a seat, we have much to discuss.” James encouraged him, not as warmly as he would have in the past but politely nonetheless. 

 

The young family did not stand to receive their guest. 

 

This was not going to go well. 

 

“James, my boy, I am quite saddened that our relationship seemed to have grown quite cold for you to not even stand to receive me. Have I done something wrong?” Albus chided but took a seat across from the family nonetheless. No tea appeared. 

 

“Forgive me, Professor but standing is for guests that are wanted or has significant peerage. You are neither.” James replied, a smile on his lips, his hand interlaced with his wife’s. 

 

The child still stared.

 

“Now James, no need to come out with full claws. It would be better to go slower. Professor is quite old and I doubt he can keep up,” Lily’s tone was light but her words were shards digging into his skin. 

 

“Such rudeness is not ideal. Have I been invited to only be insulted” Albus bristled but he had this feeling that he was on the wrong foot, like an actor without his lines in a major production. 

 

“True. We did invite you over for a reason and to get straight to the point, we want you to cease your war with Voldemort.” James said, his smile a thing of fangs and dark thoughts.

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

“There is no reason to continue this silly war just because you are stubborn. We have already spoken with Tom and as long as things are upheld on our end, he will disband his Death Eaters.” Lily explained slowly as if for a particularly dim child. “Now that his head is back on straight, he isn’t much interested in pursuing further terroristic acts either.”

 

Albus boggled at them. 

 

“H-how did this come about? It is not like Tom to just give up on his plans out of no where. I must insist that this is a trap to lull us all into a false sense of secu-”

 

“Do you recall my Uncle Charulus? He, like most Potters, was sorted Gryffindor. I do believe you were Head of House for Gryffindor at the time.” James cut accross his protestations. 

 

“Chrulus was...a gifted lad but I do not see-”

 

“Par for the course. You do not see. You have been hunting all these years for the Hallows but yet you do not see.”James stood, gently picking up Harry and holding the babe in his arms. 

 

The baby who stared at Albus, unblinking. 

 

“For generations, the Potter line has been the holder of the Hallows and Master of Death, the knowledge and power jumping from person to person. There was never a chance for an outsider like you or wielding that power and even if you were to somehow maneuver yourself to have custody of Harry, you would never be able to control him. We will not let you. Our family will not let you. Death will not let you.”

 

Shadows crawled up the walls. 

 

The room suddenly stank of decaying meat.

 

Light seemed to flee from the area leaving only writhing Shadows that nipped and shivered at his feet.

 

“You will call off this war or Death will force your hand to do so.”

 

Albus Dumbledore was lost. 

 

The child, the catalyst for all this stared and stared and stared. His green eyes glowed in the encroaching Darkness. Judging and finding him unworthy. He was never worthy. 

 

The last thing he saw before being overtaken was the symbol of the Hallows glowing upon the Potter boy’s head. 

 

_ The Wand _

 

_ The Cloak _

 

_ The Stone _

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May make a sequel more fleshed out than this. I just want to get this out there and done. Thanks for reading.


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